Looking For Ginny Weasley
by acciohagrid
Summary: Or another way to say it is, "The Story of a Girl Who Wouldn't Let Herself Love the Man She Loved." After the war, Ginny is still hurt that Harry tried to protect her. Will she open her heart up again to the man who broke it?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**** - Ginny**

"Gin-"

"No!"

"Let me at least-"

"NO!" I screamed. "For the last time, Harry Potter, no, I will not go out with you, talk to you, or even listen to you!"

I flipped my straightened hair as I turned around and stomped up the stairs to my room. I slammed the door just hard enough so he could hear, and threw myself onto my bed and sobbed –

and sobbed

and sobbed.

And when I was done sobbing, I cried –

and cried

and cried.

And when I was done crying, I sniffled.

And then I blew my nose.

What was that bastard thinking? Coming back here, after he 'saves us all' again, after he dumped me!

Well, not technically dumped me.

Okay, he did it 'cause he was trying to protect me, at least according to Hermione and Luna.

But, I don't need protecting! It's not like I'm a little girl any more! I'm bloody sixteen – almost seventeen – on the verge of womanhood! I helped fucking defeat You-Know-Who! I have battled against wizards three times my age – and won!

And anyways, I already get enough of that protecting crap from my family. My brothers, 'cause I'm the youngest, Ron especially. And my mum and dad, 'cause I'm their only daughter.

So I don't need another bloody person protecting me! Let alone Harry, who I at least think would understand.

But no.

He has to be the valiant one, the one who sacrifices himself, not even caring what my feelings are. As Izzie Stevens would say, "WHAT ABOUT ME?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**** - Hermione**

"She's been crying for days now," Mrs. Weasley whispered to me. "And it's not just now, either. Right after you three left, it was the worst. She wouldn't come out of her room, not even when I baked her favorite – lemon meringue pie!"

I gasped, "Not even for your lemon meringue pie?" I was incredulous; Ron's mum's lemon meringue was the best in the world! The lemon was just right, not too sweet, not too sour, the meringue had the perfect texture, and the best part, the crust… Oh, god, I could go on for hours…

"Nope," Molly replied. "But after a while, after a couple weeks, it got better, and by the time school started, she seemed fine.

"Well, she's had her ups and downs, according to Professor McGonagall, but it hasn't been this bad since… since the day you left."

"I'll try to console her," I reassured Molly, "I'll do my best."

I knocked on Ginny's door.

"Hello? Ginny? May I come in?" I creaked the old wooden door open and peeked in. I was greeted with an arctic glare from a pair of puffy, squinty, and red-from-crying eyes.

"Oh," she said. "It's you."

I sat down on her bed, and patted her knee, not knowing what words would comfort her, or why she was so angry.

"Want to talk about it, Gin?" I prodded.

But I had used the wrong name. Gin had been Harry's pet name for Ginny. Again, she gave me her best Ice Queen stare.

"Come on, Ginny, I can't help you if you won't tell me what you're feeling right now." That seemed to have done the trick.

With a sigh, the redhead spit out, "Anger."

"Well, that's a good start." I played the role of 'therapist' quite well, no?

"Stupidity. Hate. Annoyance. Betrayal. Jealousy."

"Anything else? Maybe sadness?"

"Yeah, sadness," she said quietly, "and I'm a bit flattered."

So this was going somewhere.

"And love?" I took a risk.

"No," she whispered, barely audibly, staring at the wall with a blank look on her face. She wouldn't even admit it to herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Please review!**

**Chapter 3 – Ginny**

I had a serious dilemma.

I really wanted the potato salad. Which just happened to be right in front of Harry. I managed through half of the dinner without the salad, but now it was just getting unbearable. Especially as it's my favorite comfort food, and boy, did I need comfort right then.

"Ron, will you pass the potato salad?" I asked politely, and with as much sweetness as I could muster. Ron was the closest person sitting to Harry.

"Er, okay," he said, trying to figure out how to grab the bowl, which was clearly out of his reach.

"Here, Gin," Harry said, grasping it and handing it to me, and giving me a big grin.

I scowled, while avoiding Harry's gaze. Taking the bowl, I heaped potato salad on to my plate with great fury, making a loud _plop _sound whenever a spoonful hit my plate.

How dare he talk to me like there was nothing wrong! There was definitely not 'nothing wrong'! I shoveled potato salad into my mouth like Ron eating pudding. If he thought this was going to get me to talk to him, he was positively wrong.

* * *

And it didn't just end at dinner. When we were in the living room, I was just sitting in the armchair and minding my own business, reading a book, when Harry asks me what my opinion on what the Ministry should do with all the ex-Death Eaters. As if I were part of the conversation, as if I were his friend.

Another time, when Hermione and I were sitting in my room chatting, he came in and asked her if she wanted to go to Diagon Alley with him and Ron. And then, the nerve of him, asked me if I wanted to join the three of them! I coolly pretended not to hear him, focusing instead on the fascinating muggle magazine that Hermione had brought to show me.

That boy never gave up, did he?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad you like it. Sorry for the late update, I've had a really busy week. Oh, and this story will be mostly from Ginny's POV.**

**Chapter 4 – Ginny**

"_Knock, knock."_

What was it with these people and their interrupting of my privacy?

"_Knock, knock, knock!" _This time it was louder.

"Fine," I said, defeated, and opened the door. I wasn't surprised to see Harry standing there, smiling sheepishly at me.

"Er, Gin, we need to talk," he said. Psh, typical. 'We need to talk,' was just _so_ cliché. Why couldn't have he used some other tactic to gain my attention? Like for example… But while I was thinking, I was holding out the door, which Harry mistook to be me inviting him in.

He sat on my bed looking awkwardly around.

"Look, Potter. What do you want?" I didn't have the patience for this.

"'Potter?' Since when are we on last-name basis?" he asked, jokingly. He obviously didn't see how angry I was. As I glared at him, he said, "Ginny, hear me out. I'm really, really sorry for what I did." Mmm, hmm. "I just… I thought I was doing the right thing. The right thing for you. The right thing for us." I hate his guts, I hate his guts, I repeated, as I tried as hard as I could to not notice how cute Harry was when he was apologizing.

"The right thing for _us_?" I demanded. "You really think that this, this whole breaking up thing, was the right thing to do, for _us, _and especially, _me_?"

"Gin-" he interrupted. "I _thought_. Notice the past tense. I was wrong. I thought… you would understand. It's changed now. Now it's… different. War does strange things to people," he said, turning his head. But it wasn't quick enough for me to not notice a tear trickle down his face.

Harry had dealt with so much in his short life. Narrowly escaping being killed by You-Know-Who multiple times, his parents dead before he was even able to speak, Cedric Diggory, Sirius, and Dumbledore murdered before his own eyes. Not to mention all of the deaths that he felt responsible for in the past year. Before, he'd dealt with all of this with anger. Now he was over that. He was over anger. For the first time in his life, sadness gripped him, real sadness. Not sadness mixed in with another emotion. Just pure sadness.

I finally understood why he was acting the way he was. Any other time, he would've been angry. A year ago, he probably would've yelled at me.

"Life…" he said, "life's too short to be wasting it on anger, Gin. I've seen things that wizards four times my age haven't seen. I've experienced things worse than anybody."

I couldn't take it any longer. Abandoning my 'I don't give a fuck' act, I rushed over to him, hugging him like we had never hugged before.

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger! The next chapter is coming soon – I promise.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Again, sorry for the cliffhanger last chapter! **

**Chapter 5 – Ginny**

"Oh, Harry," I breathed into his hair. "Harry, I'm sorry."

We cried into each other's shoulders, not caring what we looked like, not caring what we thought of each other, just stripped of our inhibitions.

After a good couple minutes of sobbing, we sobered up and sat on the bed again.

"I thought I was protecting you," he said for the hundredth time that day.

"By not letting me have my own experiences?" I asked. "No, Harry. Don't you understand how I felt? I… I've been protected my whole life. And you, Harry, you were the only one that didn't pull the reigns back. You let me be who I wanted to be. And I felt… betrayed. I was angry when you told me I couldn't come. I felt like you would be the one who would understand the most."

"Well, Gin," he said, "I would've understood if you would've told me. If you haven't noticed yet, I'm very similar to your brother when it comes to women… we're quite thick."

I laughed, and almost said, 'and that's why I love you.' But I caught myself. We weren't quite there yet. I didn't even know if he… if he still felt the same way about me.

Suddenly, it didn't feel right sitting next to Harry, and I said, "Oh, I think I heard Mum calling me," of course, that was a lie. "I'll… I'll see you later, Harry."

* * *

Walking around outside always helped clear my mind.

This time, though, seemed to be an exception.

Did he still have feelings for me? Well, I certainly knew that he wanted to be friends. But how did I know that he still… still _loved_ me?

More importantly, did _I_ still love _him_? How did one know when they were in love with someone? Did Ron know he loved Hermione? When did Mum know she loved Dad?

I sat down on the grassy field in the backyard of the Burrow, picking a small daisy.

_He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not…_

I wished love was just that simple. Just as simple as picking the petals of a flower. No deep feelings involved. No need to consider the other person's feelings.

But this was real life, not some stupid muggle fairy tale where the princess was rescued from the prince. How did I know that Harry was my prince? I didn't want to settle for the next best thing…

**A/N: Brownie points if you can guess which movie this line comes from: "By not letting me have my own experiences?"**

**Extra Special Brownie points if you can guess which song this line was inspired by: "I didn't want to settle for the next best thing…"**


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